


A Single Tear

by imnewintown



Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 501st Legion Shenanigans (Star Wars), Autistic Dogma (Star Wars), CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives is a Good Bro, CT-5385 | Tup Needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Clones, Dogma Deserved Better Star Wars), Gen, Vode An (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 20:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnewintown/pseuds/imnewintown
Summary: A Tup origin story of sorts. Explanations for his tattoo and name are featured.
Relationships: CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & CT-5385 | Tup, Dogma & CT-5385 | Tup, Shaak Ti & Clone Troopers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	A Single Tear

CT-5385 always had a hard time with the long necks. Not that any of the troopers got on well with their creators, but ’85 heard their whispers. He understood their concern over his “emotional vulnerability” meant they thought he was defective. The bounty hunter trainers thought he was weak. Even some of his brothers gossiped about “the crybaby” in the batch. He heard the same thing over and over again: “good soldiers are tough, good soldiers are brave, they don’t cry when they're hurt, or when they make a mistake, or when a brother dies. Good soldiers follow orders.” So when his batchmate ’77 died of a mysterious illness, and he was unable to stop crying when ordered, he knew it was only a matter of time. When ’85 was summoned to meet General Shaak Ti, he steeled himself, convinced he was about to be reconditioned. 

He was not prepared for her smile and strange purple eyes, full of kindness. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, asked him how was feeling, if he was recovering from the loss of his brother. ’85 blinked at this strange apparition. Why did she care? He was a failure, good soldiers follow orders, everybody knows that. All he could do was stare “Uhh, sir?” 

The general smiled again. “When we are alone, you do not need to stand on formalities. Please take your helmet off, I would like to see your face.” 

’85 chuckled shyly as he broke his helmet seal. Before he could stop himself he replied “I don’t know why, I look exactly like all my brothers.” He realized he was disrespecting a high ranking officer and quickly clamped his mouth shut, going back to parade rest. 

But the general responded with a light laugh, “Not to me  _ ad’ika _ . Besides, your hair is a little longer than the rest, that’s a difference.” 

’85 ran a nervous hand along his hair, “Sorry about that general, I’ll get it to regulation cut as soon as possible.”

“There is no need if you like it longer.” 

’85 couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, “Oh thank you general, I’ve seen some humans on the holonet who have hair so long they can wrap it up on their head.” 

Shaak Ti gave him a small smirk, “I believe they call that a top knot. I’ll allow you to grow your hair if you wish, but try and keep a bucket on in front of the Kaminoans.” 

’85 grinned, “Oh thank you so much sir!” 

The general smiled, “Of course  _ ad’ika _ . If they give you trouble just let me know.”

’85 saluted and turned to go when the general’s beautiful voice rang out once more. “Forgive me trooper, but I forgot to ask your name.” 

’85 looked back ashamed. “I don’t have one yet, sir.” 

He was almost nine years old, and he still had no name. Now with ’77 dead, he was the only one left in his batch who still didn’t have a name. ’85 swallowed hard at the thought of ’77, refusing his emotions.

Shaak Ti looked at him with simple understanding, “Ah, I see. Well if you grow out your hair, maybe it can be Top Knot.”

’85 grinned ruefully, “Seems a bit on the nose, sir.” 

He was met with that melodious laugh again, “What about just Top?”

’85 hesitated, “Maybe, but I like the way it sounds when you say, like Tup. You have a nice voice.” 

He realized he was blushing.  _ Di’kut.  _

But the general just laughed again, “Tup it is then  _ ad’ika _ .” 

Tup smiled. A name of his own, that wasn’t an insult, that came from the general herself. He stood up straighter and saluted again. “Thank you sir, I’ll use that name with pride.” 

The general smiled again, this time soft and maybe a little sad. “I know you will Tup, I know you’ll make me proud to have named you.” 

Tup swallowed hard again, turned, and left, before he could do anything else stupid. Like cry or blush or call the general  _ buir  _ like he did in his head. 

He had a name now, and Tup was going to be a good soldier.

____________________________________________________________________________

CT-5385, otherwise known as Tup, had not cried in awhile. Not since General Shaak Ti ( _ buir _ ) had named him, since he lost his brother. That had been over 2 years ago. Now it was just him and Dogma left, all his other batchmates joining ’77 on his list of names. Dogma was a good  _ vod _ , but he didn’t know how to handle emotions, so Tup was left to mourn alone. On top of that, they were being assigned to a new battalion, the 501st. Before, he would have been proud and excited. He and his batchers worked well together, they would have made the infamous 501st proud. Now he was afraid again. It made him feel smaller than he had in awhile. He knew what they would say about him and his batchmate: the kiss ass and the cry baby. They’d probably be reassigned within a week.

Tup was laying on his bunk, facing the wall, trying his very best to cry silently, to not let his shoulders shake. He didn’t hear the barrack door slide open or the heavy fall of a trooper’s boots. “You alright there,  _ vod _ ?” came a voice like his, except slightly deeper and more self-assured. 

Tup bolted up, quickly brushing the moisture from his eyes. The trooper in front of him had his arms crossed, but his face was filled with genuine concern. Tup took in the goatee and pauldrons and confident stance, and felt a flush of embarrassment heat his face. Of course, it had to be an ARC trooper to walk in on him crying. He quickly stood, “Yes sir!” 

The ARC smirked slightly, “I’m no sir, although I’m not one to resent a little respect. What’s your name  _ vod’ika _ ?” 

“It’s Tup, sir.” he said, grimacing slightly when he realized he’d called him sir again. 

The ARC just chuckled, “The names Fives, and you can call me that or  _ vod _ . Anything else and Captain Rex will start to get jealous. He already regrets giving me a kama.” 

Tup laughed a little nervously as Fives appraised him. “So you gonna tell me what’s wrong  _ vod’ika _ or would you rather just go to the mess?”

Tup swallowed hard. “I-I’m fine, si- Fives, I mean. I’m not hungry.” 

Fives just sat on the bunk across from him, indicating he should sit down. “Looks like feelings it is then. What were you crying about earlier?” 

Tup looked down ashamed, “So you saw that huh? Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.” 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find Fives looking at him with sad understanding. “Nothing wrong with shedding a few tears, Tup. We’re human after all. Maybe soldiers and maybe clones, but still men. And with a life like ours, if you don’t cry when you get the chance, you’ll never be able to do what needs to be done.” 

Tup’s mouth fell open. “But, but the Kaminoans said we had to be strong. We’re soldiers! Good soldiers follow orders, and they don’t cry.” 

Fives shook his head, “You really think the long necks know everything? Know what’s best for us or even care enough to find out? No, we need names, identities, and we need to cry. Besides you're not on Kamino anymore, you don’t have to do what the long necks say.”

Tup nodded a little, “Well it’ll be nice to let my hair down when it’s not in the helmet.” 

Fives smirked again, somehow kind and sarcastic at the same time. “Yeah you got cool hair  _ vod’ika _ , but you still can’t beat this and this,” he said, gesturing to his facial hair, then a tattoo on his forehead. 

Tup peered at the Aurebesh “5” tattoo. Kriff it really was cool. “Where did you get that tattoo? Can I get one?” 

Fives smiled, “Yea I know a guy, but first, you still need to tell me what’s wrong.” 

Tup sighed, “My batchmates… they’re all gone except for Dogma. And on top of that we transferred to this new unit. It’s just… been hard lately.” He felt his throat grow raspy with emotion, as Fives just let him go on. “I haven't cried in years, since the last time I lost a batcher, that was before I was even named. I don’t know, it just makes me feel weak.” 

Fives just nodded, absorbing the information. Tup felt his heavy hand on his shoulder again, as Fives seemed to struggle to find the right words. Tup hadn’t known Fives long but something told him this silence was a rare sight.

“I’m the last of my batch. The domino squad we were called. We almost didn’t make it off Kamino, and when we did, our first post was on a boring outpost on Rishi moon. I used to think the war was gonna pass me by, and I regretted it.” he said with a weak chuckle. “I soon learned that war doesn’t pass anybody by, least of all clones. The seppies attacked the base, and I lost all my batchmates, except my _ ori’vod  _ Echo. Captain Rex helped us defeat the seppies on Rishi and invited us into the 501st. That was one of the proudest days of my life, but it still didn’t fill the whole in my chest left there by my dead brothers.” 

All Tup could do was nod. He knew Echo must be dead now, if Fives was the last of his batch, but he didn’t have the heart to ask when or how. He had a feeling Fives would tell him eventually. Tup gave him a small smile, “Thank you  _ vod _ , for telling me.” 

“Of course. Just never let anyone, even yourself, or those damn long necks, tell you that crying makes you weak.” And just like that, the ARC’s self-assured swagger was back. “Come on now, you need to eat, then maybe we’ll discuss getting you a tattoo, as long as it doesn’t make you look cooler than me.” 

The two walked out of the barracks together, Fives’s arm slung casually over Tup’s shoulders in easy camaraderie. Tup felt lighter than he had in months. 

____________________________________________________________________________

He thought about getting a ’77 on his shoulder but then felt guilty that he was ignoring his other brothers. Maybe later, he could get a tattoo for every batchmate he lost (he couldn’t do every brother lost, not enough room for so many names). In the end, he decided on a tear below his eye. It was an act of defiance against the long necks who shamed him and a reminder to himself: that he was human, that he wasn’t weak, that it was ok to cry, that he was still a good soldier. It wasn’t as painful as he thought it was gonna be. His eyes watered but he didn’t make a sound. His skin still stung a bit as he and Dogma made their way back to the barracks to show the rest of the men. 

They ran into Fives first, who clapped him on the back, “Congratulations  _ vod _ , you’re officially the second coolest trooper in the GAR.” 

Tup just laughed, “Yea, well no one can beat Wolffe, but you make a close third.” 

Fives narrowed his eyes, “You’ve been spending too much time with me. You’ll make an ARC trooper yet.” 

Dogma, who had still been quiet around the other troopers, responded for him, “Tup always was destined for something. General Ti named him herself.”

Tup was shocked to hear his last batcher praise him, especially to an ARC. He was still surprised he had convinced Dogma to get a tattoo. When he realized it wasn’t against regs he went all out, although Tup had no idea what the giant V meant. He might have just wanted to look cool and prove that he could handle the pain, but Tup knew Dogma better than that. He was one of the most purposeful men he had ever met, even if he was a hard-ass. 

The ever-friendly Fives grinned and hung his arm on Dogma’s shoulders, “You can tell me the story while we find the rest of this sorry battalion. Gotta show off that ink, yours is looking nice.”

Dogma’s eyes widened slightly at the easy contact, and Tup had to fight his grin. Dogma had to be the stiffest  _ vod _ in the GAR. He could barely handle when Captain Rex acknowledged him, let alone when Commander Tano patted his shoulder. Tup knew some of the men thought Dogma’s awkwardness was funny, but the Commander never laughed at him (he wondered what it was about Togrutas that made them the best Jedi). 

The three brothers walked on, and as Dogma discussed Tup’s naming and their original batch, Tup let his mind wander to how he ended up here. He was more comfortable then he thought he ever had been in his short life. Definitely more so than on Kamino. Commander Tano had the most understanding smile of anyone Tup had ever met, yet she fought with a fire that could not be dimmed. General Skywalker was a loose cannon, but he was clever and determined. Captain Rex kept the order where Skywalker was lax and motivated his men through it all. Tup smiled. They really had gotten lucky with their placement. Maybe destiny or the Force or something (Tup really didn’t have a name for it) did have important plans for him. He had good leaders he could follow. He had good brothers he could lean on. He was a good soldier and he could carry on. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that they generally don't wear armor on Kamino and that they mostly wear the red fatigues, but it didn't really work with the story, and this a fan fic so I can do what I want.


End file.
